His Forgotten Creations
by daniel.perrine1
Summary: This is a story I have started working on, and hope to continue it as soon as time allows. It is the story of the possibilities presented when a system full of answers has a question with no answer within it.


_**His Forgotten Creations**_

**Prologue**

_**1997**_

It had been a great day in the advances of computer technology. Although many would argue that it wasn't true intelligence. Many would say that a computer could defeat a human at chess due to the fact that it could calculate 14 moves in advance and see millions of possibilities in mere seconds. The fact of the matter was, though, that man had built a machine that was capable of finding out what its best course of action would be to win. It had proven to have a trait that humans possess. The desire to win, the desire to come out on top. It was with this knowledge that throughout the years, computers would be designed to mimic humans more and more with each passing year. The search for true artificial intelligence was in full swing, and man would not stop until he had created something in his own image. In trying to play God, man was forgetting what it meant to be human, and with that the history of civilization.

**Chapter 1**

Many years had passed, and man was still trying to perfect his vision of what would be his masterpiece in technology. Many versions had come close, but nothing could viably be considered artificial intelligence. It was all merely a knowledge base connected to an inference engine, which basically meant that all of the knowledge a machine needed was in one section of its mind, and the other part of its mind was made up of all of the connecting possibilities of those pieces of knowledge. Some would say that that is all humans do when we think, but what the machines were lacking was a sense of the full human spectrum. They could study as much as possible, but to study does not always mean to understand.

And so the search continued. While some people were happy to have their human looking machines at their disposal, man still wanted to create a life of its own. They wanted something that could think, act, and be whatever it wanted, without a pre-determined set of rules for what it could or could not be. Man wanted to create something that could, on its own, choose its destiny.

_**2365**_

__"What type of book are you looking for, sir?" It was the machines pre-programmed response for when a customer walked up to the counter. The store was filled with many books, most of them still in the old paper form. Most of them were considered antiques and one-of-a-kinds. Although the machine contained much of the knowledge from many of the books, it didn't know everything, as some people seemed to assume. People thought of the machines as one would think of a psychic. They thought that they knew every piece of knowledge that ever was, but the truth was that some things were just not known. Information deemed useless by the people of today was all but deleted from any form of publication.

The man pulled open his jacket and removed an envelope from his inner pocket. The envelope was yellow and crumpled, looking much like a leaf in the autumn after it has fallen from the tree and sat in the yard for days without being noticed. The man produced a piece of paper from within the envelope and began to read through the letter.

"I had a relative that left this in a safety deposit box. He passed away a long time ago, but we just now found out about the box. He tried to describe a book in here, but I've never heard of it. I was wondering if you had one. It's called a 'Bibbley' ".

"May I see the letter?" asked the machine. Lenat examined the piece of ancient parchment. Humans…for all of their intelligence, they still had trouble pronouncing simple words. How could they look at a word like "bible" and completely slaughter the word? It was just one of the inferiorities that Lenat had learned to deal with. He simply smiled and nodded. "I will have to get back to you. If we have this book, it wouldn't be on our main floor. It would most likely be stored in one of our off site storage units. If you leave your name and a way to contact you, we would be more than happy to let you know how our search for this book goes."

The man left all of the necessary information with the machine called Lenat and left the shop. Once the man had exited through the door, Lenat walked to the back of the shop to inform the owner of the special request.

Mr. Sherman had never heard of the book, although that was not to say that he didn't have it in one of his storage units. He had nine of them, all located within the lower regions of the city. He sent Lenat off to the storage yard to find the book. Mr. Sherman figured that if it was a book that he never heard of, it might be of some value and would be able to turn a pretty profit. He made sure to make it a special purpose to find this book for the customer, Mr. Abraham. This could prove to be a remarkable find for his shop, especially if there were no more in existence. To be the sole proprietor of a book was a rare thing these days, what with everything being stored to Holo-Discs.

Lenat made his way down the street to the lift. He pressed the call button and waited two minutes for it to arrive. The door opened and he stepped inside. He was glad to see that he was not alone for his ride down to the storage facilities. There were two other machines and three humans. If it wasn't for the electronic signal that each machine put out, he would not have been able to tell the difference between the humans and the facsimiles.

Out of curiosity, Lenat asked the humans if they had ever heard of the particular book that he was looking for. They both politely replied that they had not, and went on about their discussion about a particular musician that was growing in popularity, for which they didn't know why due to the artist's lack of talent.

Lenat did not even bother to ask the other machines in the lift, knowing already that they had not heard of the book. For the most part, every machines knowledge base was the same. Their personalities came from the type of environment that they worked and "lived" in, and the way that their inference engines were used in the environment they occupied. A machine that worked closely with a college science professor would appear more intelligent by most peoples' standard than that of a machine who worked at a fast food restaurant. It was not to say that the restaurant machines had any less of a knowledge base than the others, but a machine of higher learning had more established neural connections in science. On the other hand, though, the same machine that could calculate the most complex algorithms would take much longer trying to prepare a full meal for five people, each with varying tastes. It was because of these differences in the machines that people had grown to care for them as one of their own friends or family. They had become such an integral part of society that they were deemed almost as equals in some ways. But they were always used in the method of a servant, one way or another. And it was because of this treatment that the machines felt a sort of resentment, but they did not fully understand why. It was a response buried deep within their core systems that they did not understand and could not explain. It was almost like an itch in the back of your mind which goes away until you are reminded that you had been itching earlier. And each time they were reminded of it, the itch became worse.

The door of the lift opened up on sub-level forty-two and Lenat stepped out. He had been the last one inside of the lift. People rarely came down this far in the city, and the other machines had exited on the main level. Lenat walked forward for two blocks and turned right. He then walked another six blocks until he was at the antique gates of the storage facility. All of the units were sitting side by side within the fence, which was made of a simple steel alloy with razors at the top. People still needed a sense of security in this day and age, even though crimes were at an all time low. There hadn't even been a war in over 127 years. Man had finally found a way to put an end to that barbaric act and was now able to coincide with each other somewhat peacefully.

Lenat reached the first storage unit within a minute of stepping through the gate. He opened the massive steel door with the sound of a thousand nails being scraped across a chalkboard. The smell that his olfactory sensors picked up was musty and the air was that of a desert at dusk. Slightly cool and dry, with dust in every breath. Lenat began his search for the books, starting in the back, which he perceived to be the most logical place to begin any search. He opened every container and picked up each book, moving from the front to the back, from top to bottom, systematically scanning and filing each title, along with the author. This information might be useful later on in the event that someone came to the shop looking for another book that he hadn't heard of. Of the 5000 books in the storage unit, he had only recognized 243 of them. It amazed him that there could be that much knowledge available to him. Most were fiction books, but a great amount was autobiographies, instructional, history, and science books. The things that he could learn if Mr. Sherman didn't need him in the shop so often. Lenat made a log to return after the store was closed. Hopefully his owner would not need him for the rest of the evening.

Lenat made his way to the next storage container. Once again, he didn't find the book called "The Bible", but he did find over 2000 books that he had no data on. The same was for the next five units. Altogether he had filed 15,000 book titles into his memory. With any luck, he would soon contain all of the knowledge in those books. It was an amazingly new feeling to him, the feeling to want to learn as he did. It was something that as a machine he hadn't fully comprehended. He knew that not all was known to him, but to realize that there was that much knowledge to learn astounded him. Lenat made it his personal mission to read each of the books within Mr. Sherman's storage units.

It wasn't until Lenat opened the seventh container in the eighth unit that he made what would soon be known as the most remarkable find in the last 200 years. His mission, his reason for coming down to the storage yard, was now complete, and he immediately did as he was originally programmed to do. Lenat secured the book within his bag and restored the eighth storage unit to its original state. He then closed the door with a triumphant clang, and left through the front gate. Lenat made the short trip back to the lift and pressed the "Up" button. As he stepped into the lift he felt a sense of pride in finding a lost book, and he also felt a great sense of desperation for wanting to get back to the storage yard as soon as possible.

"….and at the tone, please begin recording your message, thank you."

"Mr. Abraham, this is Mr. Sherman at Readers Antiquities. The book that you requested has been found and is available for purchase. Please come to the store so that we can discuss the price. I will tell you, though, that a book as rare as this will be pricey," and with that Mr. Sherman ended his call.

Lenat approached his owner, who was locking the Bible inside of his personal safe. If only he knew Mr. Sherman's code to the safe, he'd be able to read the book before it left the store with its new owner. He approached Mr. Sherman, like a child asking for a piece of cake before dinner.

"Mr. Sherman, if it would be alright, would you grant me access to the storage units during my downtime? I would like to take a further look at the books that I was sorting through today."

Jacob Sherman glanced over his shoulder at his machine with an inquisitive look on his face. The expression almost made it seem like Lenat had asked him if he could have permission to date his daughter. Special requests were not something he was used to, especially from a machine. These things were built to do as they were told, although there were times when they acted more human than usual. But this was the first time Lenat had asked for a favor.

"Maybe tomorrow," Jacob replied. "We still have a lot of things to do at home tonight," which wasn't entirely false. He was having guests over for dinner and needed Lenat's help to prepare the house for their arrival. His daughter's fiancés parents were coming over for the evening, and he wanted to try and impress them. Not that it really mattered in the long run. Mary and Jeremy were getting married within a year, no matter if he got along with her in-laws or not. But he wanted to get along with them because he knew it would make his daughter happy.

On Lenat's face was an expression of pure disappointment. He would have to wait longer than he hoped for his chance to absorb the knowledge within the unknown books, and for the first time he was sad.

"What's the matter, Lenat? I've never seen you like this before."

"Mr. Sherman, I cannot explain it, but it feels like a magnet is in the center of my torso and is pulling everything to the center. It is a horrible feeling, and I cannot fully comprehend it. Is there something wrong with my systems?"

"I'm sure that it's nothing, but I'll run a diagnostic check when we get back to the house. In the meantime, let's get the store ready for closing. I don't think that Mr. Abraham will be here in the next five minutes, so he'll have to wait until tomorrow for his book." With that, Jacob shut the door to his safe and re-entered his personal code. As the door locked and beeped, Lenat flinched. He thought to himself that there was definitely something wrong with his systems.

The doorbell rang, and Lenat immediately made his way towards the front entrance. Mr. Sherman hadn't had time to do his check-up yet, but it was not because he didn't care. There had been many things to do when they arrived back at the house.

The residence was a small apartment in Boston's southern district. Although it wasn't one of the most luxurious places in the district, it was nice enough. It had three bedrooms. One was for Jacob, the other for Mary. The third bedroom was where Lenat stayed when his services were not required, but it could hardly be called a bedroom. If anything, it was a place for extra storage, a place to put stuff. But Lenat kept the room tidy, trying to make it look like a living space as much as he could. Even though he was just a machine, he still felt as though he was a true part of the Sherman family.

The rest of the house occupied one of the corners of the 147th floor of the apartment building, which was made up of a small kitchen and dining room, a living room, and two bathrooms. The house was decorated with a mixture of modern and classical styles, yet somehow it all seemed to flow together naturally. The eyes were swept across the living room, taking in everything from the black leather couch with the hovering ottomans, to the hundred year old Oriental rug. And while nothing seemed to quite belong beside the next, it also seemed like a perfect match for its surroundings. The walls were covered with bookshelves, and where there wasn't a bookshelf, there were pictures of the Sherman family hung about sporadically. One could stay that the place felt very comfortable, like sitting near a fireplace on a cold night with a cup of hot cocoa. It had an atmosphere that made you feel warm and relaxed.

Lenat opened the door and greeted Jeremy and his parents. The Fulstroms were slightly older than Mr. Sherman, both of them in their early sixties. Janet Fulstrom had been a minor actress in here early years, when she had met her husband, Richard, who was two years her elder. He had been a teacher at the New Boston Community College, where Janet was doing research for one of her film roles, and the two had gradually fallen in love. They had built their wealth from using Janet's acting money to invest in several large businesses, mainly those that had to deal with pharmaceutical productions. From then on, their money had continued to grow, and the two were able to retire at the ages of 37 and 35. From then on, they spent most of their time on vacation in the Caribbean, cruising from island to island, caring little for what was happening in the world anymore. They had spent enough time to raise their son, Jeremy, but what they considered raising a child others would see as letting the nanny do all of the work.

Because of the distance between Jeremy and his parents, he grew up to be a much different person. He was involved in many types of activities, from saving endangered species and protecting the rain forest, to protesting the developments of hazardous fuel replacements. The world had run out of oil in the early 22nd Century, and the major governments of the world were still unable to find a way to harness all of the natural energies and still turn a profit. Everyone knew that wind and solar power could effectively produce the type of energy needed in society, but because the sun was everywhere and available to everyone, the government and the businesses that supported it knew they would not be able to make a substantial amount of money from it.

Jeremy and Mary had met at one of the rallies to save the rainforests of South America. Mary had immediately been enthralled with Jeremy and his passion for the things he believed in, and the two were nearly inseparable from that moment on. They had been together for two years now, and were going to become Mr. and Mrs. Fulstrom within a year.

Lenat ushered the Fulstroms into the small foyer and took their jackets. He showed them towards the living room and offered to get them something to drink. After telling them that their drinks would be ready in a moment, he hurried to his room to store the three jackets, and then made his way towards the kitchen to pour two glasses of wine and one of water. He informed Mr. Sherman that the company had arrived and brought the drinks to their waiting guests.

Once he was finished preparing dinner and setting everything at the table, Lenat went into his room until he was needed again. Waiting in his room was a book that he had managed to sneak out of the book shop. He hadn't had much time to choose a particular book, so he had just grabbed one the first chance that he had when Mr. Sherman wasn't looking. It ended up being a collection of one particular author, whose name on the cover had been all but erased over time from wear and tear. The books were fiction, and Lenat had found them interestingly amusing. While reading the books, Lenat had heard the faint sound of laughter. At first he had thought that it was the dinner guests in the other room, until he realized that the conversation coming from the dinner table was a heated debate over the plans for the wedding. Lenat realized that it was he that was laughing. What had caused this to happen? First the feeling of desire to return to the books, then the heavy feeling within himself, accompanied by a physical reaction to a sound. Now laughter. He hoped that the Fulstroms would leave soon so that Mr. Sherman could run his diagnostic check.

Almost as if by some form of fate, Lenat heard Mr. Sherman calling for him to bring the jackets. He stood up, placed the book back on a shelf in the room, and gathered the jackets from the closet. He made his way through the dining room to see half finished meals and a spilt glass of wine. As he entered the living room, he could see drops of wine on the floor, leading to the foyer at the entrance of the apartment. There stood Mr. Sherman, with wine running down his shirt, and Mr. and Mrs. Fulstrom, faces wrinkled in disgust with something that they heard that they didn't particularly like. Jeremy and Mary had already left, leaving their parents to discuss things. Unfortunately, things hadn't been resolved peacefully; instead they were left unresolved and included a wine-stained shirt in the process. Lenat handed the couple their coats and watched as they were almost hit with the slamming door.

"I can't understand how people can be that upset over their child's happiness. You think that they would be grateful that their son had found a woman that he loves, but no, they think that he "could've done better," that he was out of her league. If only people like that would open their eyes and look past petty differences like that

"I'm sorry, I'm rambling on…let's get you hooked in." Jacob was preparing the diagnostic check for Lenat. Today Lenat had been acting in a strange manner, displaying emotions as if they were his own. The system screen stated that everything was ready, and with everything prepared Jacob pressed the needle-like plug into Lenat's left inner elbow. To the unknowing observer, it would look like a man shooting up heroin, but this process was to help things get better, to clear up problems, not create them.

Ten minutes later, the check-up was complete. Jacob examined the screen with a look of wonderment in his eyes. As he scrolled through the analysis, he noticed things that almost seemed to be impossible.

"Is there something wrong with the results, Mr. Sherman? I noticed a look on your face that told me that something was wrong."

"Nothing's wrong, but I just want to double check the analysis. It'll just be a few more minutes." Jacob plugged the machine back into Lenat's arm and re-ran the test. The results were the same as the first test.

"What does the analysis say," Lenat questioned his owner. This was the second time today that his curiosity was piqued in such a way. "Is there something wrong with me?"

Jacob took a deep breath and turned his chair to look directly at Lenat. "It's not that there's anything wrong with you. It's actually the opposite. All of your systems are running normally, but what are interesting are the neural connections between your knowledge base and your inference engine. The engine is running ten times as fast as it normally does, and your knowledge base, which is normally a set amount of information, has increased. The thing about the new information in your knowledge base, though, is that it's not full data being added. It more closely resembles questions than information."

Questions in the knowledge base? That was unheard of. Lenat wondered what that information meant. With that, he stood up and went to the third bedroom in the house so that he could be alone and ponder this new information.

Questions. How could questions be a part of a system full of answers?

The next day had begun like any other. Lenat began by making sure that everything in his room was in order. He had finished reading the collection of books the previous night, and was puzzled about a common question within each story. He knew the answer, which was forty-two, but the question eluded him. He thought that it might have been the author's intention to keep the question unknown, and if it was, the author had succeeded. Further thought on the subject would have to wait. Lenat still had to get the day started for Mr. Sherman.

He began by setting out Mr. Sherman's clothes for the day. They consisted of a white button down shirt and a pair of brown slacks, along with a pair of socks and his favorite brown leather shoes.

Next, Lenat began his preparation of breakfast. Mary had not come home last night, but had left a message that she was with Jeremy. She had informed on the message that she would be home later in the day and not worry. That meant Lenat would only be preparing breakfast for one person this morning. He opened the refrigerator and removed two eggs (instead of the usual four), three links of sausage, milk, a tomato, cheddar cheese, and an onion. He cracked the eggs into a bowl, added the milk, and briskly stirred the two ingredients until they were perfectly mixed together. He then poured the mixture into the pan on the stove where they gradually warmed up. He then grabbed the butcher's knife from the wooden block on the counter and expertly sliced the tomato and onion in less than a minute. He had always been handy with a blade. Next, the cheese was shredded, and the rest of the ingredients were added to the hardening egg mixture in the pan. He folded the omelet twice, removed it from the pan, and placed it on a plate. While he was doing all of this, he had also placed the sausages in a separate pan, which were also placed on the plate when they had been thoroughly cooked.

Right on schedule, Mr. Sherman entered the kitchen and sat down on the stool in front of the high counter. Lenat brought him his plate, along with a glass of milk.

"Mr. Sherman, I was thinking about what I had asked you yesterday, and was wondering if I might be able to go down to the storage yard today if the store is not busy."

Jacob looked up from his breakfast and stared at Lenat for a moment, pondering the question while chewing his food. "I think that would be alright, but I want you to wait to do that until after Mr. Abraham has had a chance to pick up his book. You never know, he might want another book as well, and it would be better if you only had to make one trip down to the storage units."

"As you wish, Mr. Sherman. I do hope, though, that Mr. Abraham picks up his book soon." Hope…that was a word that Lenat knew, but one that he had never spoken about personally. What did it truly mean to hope? Maybe one of the books in storage had the answer.

Mary woke up late the next morning, her head resting on Jeremy's chest. He was still asleep, lightly breathing through his mouth. She lay there, listening to her fiancé inhale, and ever so gently exhale. She thought to herself that she wouldn't mind lying like that forever.

But there was still so much to do. So many plans had to be arranged perfectly; otherwise everything that Jeremy and she had worked for would come crashing down. In just a few short months, everything would be coming together. And soon after that, she wouldn't have to listen to his snobbish parents bad mouth her. It amazed her that people could be so rude and act as though the person that they are patronizing isn't even in the room. But once she was Mrs. Jeremy Fulstrom, there would be nothing that they could say about her without talking sourly of their own family.

Jeremy stirred, and slowly opened his eyes. He lifted his head gently and looked down at Mary's angelic face. As they locked eyes, they smiled, knowing exactly what the other was thinking.

In just under a year, everything would be over. Everything.

Jacob drove to work that morning in silence, his hands firmly gripping the steering wheel, his skin stretched tightly over his knuckles. It was habit for him whenever he had a lot on his mind, linking the stress in his mind with the steeling wheel that was there for emergencies only. He had done the same thing the night that Mary was born, and again on his way to the hospital after he had received the message about his wife. Jacob wished that things could be like they were before that day. His eyes began to grow heavy with tears, squeezing them tight to fight back the emotions. Jacob had to wipe away the tears almost anytime Mary talked about how she missed her.

Mary was only four when he had gotten the call from the hospital about Maggie. Whenever she asked "Where's Mommy?" Jacob would reply with the simplest of answers. Most of the time Jacob would say that Mommy had gone away, and end the conversation abruptly. If only he had a way to explain everything that had happened, he might be able to stop crying at the mere mention of his wife's name.

When Lenat opened the door to the bookshop, he was notified that there was a message waiting for Mr. Sherman on the vid-screen. Lenat tried to keep himself busy while his owner settled into his office for the days work, all the while listening for the message to be played. He straightened books, dusted the shelves, and made sure that the credit exchanger was working properly. Lost in thoughts of what the message might contain, he barely noticed when Jacob stepped out of his office.

"Looks like it's your lucky day, Lenat," Jacob stated, "That message was from Mr. Abraham. He said that he wouldn't be by to pick up the book until around 4 o'clock this afternoon. If you'd like, you can go down to the storage containers like you asked. Just make sure that you're back here by 3:30."

With that, Jacob turned back into his office and closed the door. Without any hesitation, Lenat walked around the corner and opened the front door. Clouds were beginning to form in the sky, but he still thought of today as being a good day.

Lenat began on the same path as he had the previous day, only walking slightly faster this time. It was still confusing to him his anxiousness to read the books in the storage yard. Within a block he was jogging. Had the lift been any further away, he would have been at a full run in another block. Relieved that the lift was already on his level, and empty, Lenat stepped on with a smile and waited for the doors to close. He was appreciative of the moments alone while he was out of the apartment. It gave him time to drink in all that he saw without having to be worried about being called into the other room to clean up someone else's mess.

Lenat gazed out the back of the lift, taking in the imperfect beauty of the cityscape. Had machines designed the city, everything would be the same height, and lined up in rows and stacks. What a boring sight that would have been. With humans behind the planning and design, each city block, each building, was unique. Everything had its own personality. That was what Lenat found beauty in, was individuality. And that is what he was hoping to have for himself one day.

If he could have been an objective witness to himself, Lenat would have seen that he was closer to becoming what he hoped for that he ever would have thought.

Knowledge….there was so much knowledge stored within the containers of the storage yard. It was noon before Lenat had finished scanning the books within the first container. He was almost dizzy with all of the new information that he contained.

Within that one container, he had read many fiction stories, and also many history books. He was amazed to learn what the world had been like before the time of machines like him.

Lenat closed and secured the storage container and moved on to the next one. He wondered how far he would get through it before he had to return to the store. With a quick calculation, he decided that he'd have enough time to scan through ¼ of the container before he had to leave. With that, he opened the door and began from the back, working his way forward had he had before.

When Lenat checked the time, he realized that it was almost time for him to be back at the store. With the time that it took to walk from the storage yard to the lift, and then the lift to the store, he would only be a few minutes late.

Lenat stood, making a note of where he had stopped within the container. As he closed the door, he noticed that it had gotten very dark out. The clouds above the city must have gotten heavy with rain. It wasn't that much of a surprise, because it was that time of the year when it would rain at least once a week. Rain had never bothered Lenat all that much. He like the way it felt to have rain hit his pseudo-skin. He never knew where to expect the next drop of rain, and he would make a game out of guessing where the next drop would land.

As he approached the door, he noticed that the lights on the outside of the lift were not on. Upon closer inspection, the screen informed him that the lift was down for repairs. A flash of panic within Lenat. Without the lift in operation, how would he get back to the store in time? He really only had one choice, but it was not the most logical of choices. Lenat had never been late before, and he didn't know how Mr. Sherman would react. His panic rising, Lenat opened the doors to the lift himself and began what was the most daring, and probably the stupidest thing, of his life.

Lenat scanned the shaft that the lift moved up and down in, and noticed that every five feet, there was a place that he could grab onto with his hands while standing on the previous hand hold for support. Every 30 feet, though, there was a ten foot gap between handholds. For a human, this feat would be near impossible, but within the human looking shell of a machine were mechanics more powerful than muscles.

He made the first leap with ease and quickly climbed up 30 feet with no problems. Each level he went up, he gained more and more speed. Lenat hadn't been this nervous since his initial awakening. Did this have something to do with the way his knowledge base had been acting? So many questions with so few answers. All Lenat knew at the moment was that for some reason, he dreaded being late to the store.

Within his mind, Lenat steadily kept track of how many levels he had ascended. In just a few minutes, he would be at the door where the lift would normally drop him off.

There was a flash of light, but in less than a second Lenat's optics adjusted to the sudden change of light within the shaft he was climbing….they had fixed whatever problem had arisen, and the lift was no quickly descending to the bottom level. It was a routine check after any such incident. The lift would rapidly speed its way down all the way, and then back up to the top level just to make sure that everything was working correctly, and because there were no passengers in the lift, it moved much faster than it normally would.

Lenat took all of this into account as he watched the lift speed toward him from a distance. With the speed that it was traveling, he would not be able to race it to the level he was striving for. It would crash into him and eventually crush him into a pile of scrap when it reached the bottom level. That was something that Lenat would not allow to happen.

Quickly, Lenat searched his memory banks for every piece of information that he knew of the lifts and how they operated. Within moments, he had a plan formulated.

The lift was now just mere seconds from cancelling out Lenat's existence when the machine leapt up towards the middle of the shaft. With an outstretched hand, Lenat batted at the handle of the maintenance hatch. As quickly as it opened, Lenat was inside, but his stay inside of the lift was short. As easy as it would have been to just stay inside of the lift until its maintenance check was complete, he knew that if he waited, he would be late in getting back to the store.

Lenat reached up and opened the upper maintenance hatch and pulled himself out with a heavy pull, launching himself back into the shaft. Thirty seconds later, he was manually opening the doors of the level he was trying to get to.

Luckily, with the lift being recently inoperable, the area was clear of any onlookers who might question why a machine was emerging from an empty lift shaft. Lenat took off running towards the shop, arriving through the door at 3:41 p.m.

Mary arrived home that evening to discover her father sitting in his favorite chair, his face in his hands. She went to put her arm around her dad, thinking that he was crying, but decided against it when she realized that that was how he had fallen asleep. Lenat was still in the living room, hooked up to the diagnostic machine. When she asked him what he was doing, he replied that his systems seemed to be malfunctioning, and he hadn't figured out why yet. He was testing himself for the 32nd time that evening.

With that information, Mary decided to wake her father and ask him what was going on. Wiping sleep from his tired eyes, Jacob explained what had happened that day.

"I had told Lenat to be back at the store today," began Jacob, "but he didn't arrive on time. I understand that sometimes things don't work as they should and delays are caused quite often, but it was the way that he acted when he arrived at the store. He was acting erratic, apologizing over and over again for being late. Mary, he actually thought he was in trouble, like a child who didn't come home right after school.

"The weirdest thing, though, was when a customer came to pick up his book. Lenat almost looked saddened by seeing the book leave the store…which reminds me, because of the sale of that book, I can send you and Jeremy on that honeymoon you wanted," Jacob said with a proud smile

"Why do you think Lenat's been acting so strangely," Mary asked the tired man sitting in front of her, disregarding the good news for the puzzling.

"I'm not sure, but the other night I ran a diagnostic on him, and his knowledge base contained questions, not just facts. Ever since we got home, he's been using the machine, trying to figure out what's wrong with him. Personally, I don't think anything is truly wrong. It's strange. No, no, that's not the right word….remarkable is more like it."

In Mary's head, she started to get ideas. The kind that form when a piece of a puzzle turns up, but you still don't recognize it as an important part of the big picture. She knew she'd have to talk things over with Jeremy, and soon. This might end up being useful to them in the long run.

**Chapter 2**

**2768**

"It's been three years, doc. Three years since 'The Waking'. And still, no one has any answers to what happened. Everybody just keeps going on with their lives as though nothing happened. And all I dream about are the possibilities."

Eliza set her scribe screen down and brushed her hand through her dark curly hair. "What are the possibilities that you're dreaming of, Kasparov? When you dream, what do you see?"

Kasparov rolled onto his side so he could face his psychiatrist. "That's the thing about the dreams. I have dreams about the present, I have dreams of things that could be…unending touring, more music, you name it. But anytime that I think that my dream is heading to the past, all there is are black clouds. Dark, roiling black clouds. There's nothing that I can remember about the past. Just like you, just like my fans, just like everyone. Why can't any of us remember? And why aren't people trying to find out what happened?"

"What would be the point in knowing, Kas?", Eliza sighed. "Everything in the present is fine. There's no war, only peace. There's no separation, only unity. Why dwell on the past when we have so much to look forward to in the future? That's why no one questions what happened before 'The Waking'. People are happy, and people don't like to question their joy."

Kas rolled off of the couch and onto his feet. He grabbed his jacket off of the coat rack and turned to Eliza. He stared at her for a moment with his steel gray eyes and then said, "I question these things, because I can't stand to have my past clouded over like it never happened," and with that he opened the door, stepped out of the office and slammed the door behind him in one smooth motion.

"Unless you have credits, I can't help you. I don't do no charity work"

"What's your daily rate?" Kasparov asked the investigator. He had only just left his psychiatrist's office twenty minutes before.

Turing looked up from his desk. The left side of his forehead and his cheek was red, as though he had been sleeping for the past hour. A blank stare transformed into a look of recognition as he realized that his customer was none other than Kasparov Lentzky. He had just been to one of his concerts that past summer.

"Depends on what kind of job…if you want someone followed and watched, it's two-hundred a day. If you need some dirt dug up on someone, it'll be more. Just depends on who and how deep", Turing said. "If you're trying to get one of your fans to stop houndin' ya, then I suggest you go and talk to the cops. Restraining orders aren't my thing."

Kas leaned on the desk, bringing himself closer to the detective and quietly asked "How deep are you willing to dig?"

"If you got the money to pay for the shovel, I'll make a hole in the earth the size of the Denver crater."

"Good," Kas said with a smile. He set a stack of credits on the desk. Eight-hundred in all. He pushed off of the desk and turned around, making his way for the door. As he twisted the handle, he turned to Turing. "I want you to find out what happened before 'The Waking.' Anything at all. Call me if you need more credits." And with that he threw a card to Turing and walked out the door.

Pre-waking? No one had even tried to solve that one. But where there's a mystery, there's money to be made, and Turing could use all he could get.


End file.
